I'm Not the One
by SuperDuperGir
Summary: Craig and Tweek drifted apart during the fourth grade, just stopped being friends; and in Sixth grade, Tweek disappeared altogether; Now, ten years later, Craig finds Tweek, and he is shocked at what he's become.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello. This is my first Creek Story, and Imma give it my all!**

**I've been writing on my IPod touch, and this IS a Language arts assignment, so smex and language will be at a minimum.**

**I will try to update regularly, but I am unreliable.**

**BTW, read my other stories, and if you like Style and Creek, there are moar to come.**

**Also, this is multi chap, and based off the songs: I'm not the one, Streets of Gold, and R.I.P by 3oh!3.**

**They are epic.**

**Mmkay, GO BROWSE MY SHIZZ YO!**

**REECES PEACE - EZ, **

** ~Zim**

{~*~I'm not the one~*~}

Craig/Tweek Fic

Craig's POV

10 years. Why do people assume that whenever a friendship ends, it's because the two fought, and afterwards they hate eachother for life? In some cases, I suppose this is true; however, with me and Tweek, this was not the case. It's hard to explain exactly what happened; we just sort of... Drifted apart. He started becoming severely depressed when we entered sixth grade, he wouldn't even tell me what was the matter. I mean, Tweek was my best friend! He had trust issues, and he wouldn't let me in on anything, that, if anything, was what caused our friendship to crumble; even though he tried to push me away, I should've kept trying; I regret to this very day, that I decided, to be a selfish bastard, and let this poor, emotionally scarred child to fend for himself. That, I regret;

Still, I didn't think we'd quit being friends;

I walked home, November 18th, 2010, and got the unexpected; a few minutes after my arrival, the house phone rang. You may wonder, who the hell has a friggin' house phone? Well, I do, and don't be giving me bullshit about it; or you better PRAY you live near a hospital. At least, I prayed for a hospital that day, at least, a working CAR. I casually picked up the phone, totally expecting Clyde to be on the other end;

"Hey retard, I've got a cellphone." I said into the reciever.

"What?" said a surprised voice on the other end, "I called your cell, nobody answered." replied the voice. I sat down on the counter,

"Clyde?" I asked, the voice chuckled,

"No, actually, My name is Dr. Steve Griffith." answered a supposed, Dr. Steve Griffith.

"Well, that's awesome, what EVER could you need?" I asked, I assumed it was some bum, high on something, just looking for my mom. She had guys coming over several times a day, they were in her room for sometimes hours at a time, "looking over buisness."

Sure, that didn't even work when I was younger. Sadly, I knew what those noises were, and what's even sadder, is that my ten year older sister, Ruby, knows what is going on in there, just beautiful. Thanks for leaving us with an unemployed whore, dad. He left when I was eleven, because my mom was a slut. Ha, was, yeah right.

"Mr. Tucker?" I hear Dr. Griffith say, I snap out of my thoughts.

"HOW THE HELL DO YOU KNOW MY NAME!" I screamed, rather, um, loudly. I heard a small gasp on the other end;

"Mr. Tucker, would you happen to know a Tweek Tweak?" he questioned, I swear, my heart stopped beating; Tweek! MY Tweek! MY Tweek that dropped off of the face of the earth seven years ago! Whilst I was not sure what to say, I knew this man was awaiting an answer, he could also be my only hope at ever seeing Tweek again.

"I used too..." I grumbled. 'You blew it' I thought to myself. The man only quietly breathed into the phone, his noise making a slight squeak with every exhale, he clicked his tongue a few times before taking a breath, and saying:

"When was the last time you spoke to Mr. Tweak? And how has your relationship with Mr. Tweak influence you as a person? I'd also like to know, what was your relationship with Mr. Tweak? Enemies? Friends? Family? In a relationship, or spouses?" he finished. Geezus, enough questions? This man obviously wasn't focused on me and Tweek, because last time I checked, Gay Marriage wasn't legal in Colorado, not even in my town, South Park (where everything is acceptable). Even if it were. Tweek and I would NOT be getting married. The larger reason being that we were ELEVEN; A smaller reason was that I'M NOT GAY. Even if I was, Tweek would NOT have been my first choice, even though he WAS rather...um...Flamboyant... Well, who said Tweek would've been a bad partner? Maybe he would've kept me on track, Socially, Academically, and Emotionally.

"Mr. Tucker, I think you should come see Mr. Tweak, he's in the hospital. In serious condition, I think he needs a friend."

That immediately shook me from my thoughts.

"WHAT!" I screamed, I slammed the phone back down on the base, and ran out the door, without even feeding my guinea pig, Stripe.

I ran down the block to the nearest friend's house, Clyde's; I pounded harshly on his door, wasting no time. His Mother answered the door. Clyde's mother was a beautiful woman, not just physically, but on the inside too. Clyde's mom died when he was nine, he practically shut himself out from the rest of the world. I never really knew his old mom, she was constantly locked up in her home office, doing random paperwork, 'stupid adult stuff', as Clyde would always say. He never showed interest in his parents, until his mom died: After we started middle school, around seventh grade, Clyde's dad got remarried. A young, GORGEOUS, Indian woman. Whilst Clyde's dad sat around, smoking his Cuban's, and drinking a blue Mix-Aid drink, Souvieta, Clyde's step - mom, played the role as super parent. She was never sitting down, constantly, she cooked, cleaned, and did all the things Clyde used to be forced to do; Whenever she had a sliver of free time, she'd spends it with Clyde, making him feel like he could welcome her as a new family member. He never did; I however, was a completely different case; She became a real mom to me, I spent more time over there, especially when I grew away from Tweek.

"Hi Sweetie, You here for Clyde?" She asks, I nod, and we exchange a light, friendly hug.

"Butterball!" She called out to Clyde, the name she gave him when we were 14, and I dared him to eat a stick of butter(he did), or, so she claims; I think she gave it to him because he's fat; Clyde sulked into the room,

"Yes?" he asked, in his monotone voice that makes me want to punch a baby.

"Dude, I need to use your car." I said, totally serious. He smirked.

"No way in hell Imma let YOU borrow MY brand new Ford Expedition!" he exclaimed, did I mention his mom buys him a new car every year?

"LOOK ASSHOLE!" I yelled, for the first time ever swearing in front of Souvieta, "THEY FOUND TWEEK! I NEED TO GO SEE HIM!"


	2. Chapter 2

**OHMYGURSH.**

**I have not updated a single one of my stories in lyk...FUREVAR. Um, so here is the ending to I'm not the one, this was an english project, so pardon me if the characters seem OOC. **

Clyde got this strange, unidentifiable expression on his face. Souvieta put a loving hand on my shoulder. I gently shook her off. Clyde simply stared, he reached into his back pocket, and produced car keys. He handed them to me, slowly, mournfully. I snatched them out of his tight grasp and ran outside. Snow began to pile down like no tomorrow; I hopped in the car, and sped off down the street.

The hospital came into view, Hell's Pass, to be exact. I parked in a bus space, knowing Clyde's car would get towed. I laughed to myself knowing how he'd react when he found out his "baby" was gone. I approached the strange, fat, old woman at the front desk. Her thinning brown hair was tossed wildly about her head. Her eyes seemed lifeless, they seemed to say,

"I hate my job."

I looked down at the cheap, faded, Winnie the Pooh{tm} scrubs. She wore a small button that read:

I really wish I weren't here right now.

Wow, what an optimist. She glanced up from her opened Facebook page, and snarled;

"Can I help you in anyway?" In a scratchy, squeaky voice, resembling Clyde's. I allowed my wandering eyes to glance at her profile.

Pam Mark. God, I've always HATED the name Pam, and now, probably always will. With my luck, my subconscious mind will forever associate the name Pam with this ugly 47-year-old woman with two puppies as her profile picture and has thirteen friends. She cleared her throat, in a mocking, fake way.

"I'm here to see a Tweek Tweak." I stated clearly, "Got it PAM!"

She glared, and minimized her Facebook page, as if me being here to see my long-lost friend, is interrupting her slacking off at her job.

She typed a few numbers into her computer.

"Fifth floor, room 439." She said, and re-opened her profile. I had to remember to 'Friend' her sorry ass as soon as I got home. I moseyed over to the elevator, taking as much time as possible. I got a tissue, took a drink, went to the bathroom, tied my shoe, I basically stalled my way there. Finally I was at the elevator, it was a good SEVEN FEET away from the front desk. I wished for a bench, so I could stop and 'Take a rest.' Because god knows how difficult it must be to cross the room. I just really didn't want to see Tweek. At that point, I didn't even know why I didn't want to see him. Hadn't I been bargaining with god for the past ten years to bring him back? I slid down the wall. I had to sit and think about this. I guessed it was because I wanted to remember a happy Tweek, filled with joy and energy. Not like a vegetable. I was also afraid of where he'd been, how he'd been, and most importantly,

Who he'd been.

I shook away the thoughts, and entered the elevator.

A young girl stood there, she was adorable. Dirty blonde hair curled around her smooth pale face, which was dotted with red freckles. Her deep gray eyes looked at me with interest. She smiled a toothy grin, her front teeth were gone.

"Fifth floor?" She asked, in a soft, timid voice, resembling Tweek's.

Minus the stutter.

I nodded, she closed the door, and she stared down at her white converse.

"Why are you here?" She asked me.

"I have to visit a friend of mine, I haven't seen him in years!" I said, she looked up at me.

"I'm here to see my Mom- I mean dad." She said. How does she get her parents confused?

"My dad's expecting a long-lost visitor." She said.

"Really?" I asked, the doors swung open. She said goodbye and started to approach the east wing;

Where room 439 was located. I followed her.

Room 437

Room 438;

She stopped in front of 439, and turned to face me,

"Are you following me?"

I shook my head;

"We must just be going the same way."

She nodded, and knocked at the door. I froze; this was Tweek's room, not her dad's,

Right?

I stood behind her, dumbfounded. A man with dark grey hair and a scraggly beard answered the door.

"Hello Sarah." He said, "Come in-"

He noticed me.

"Are you Mr. Tucker?" He asked. I nodded, Sarah looked at me strangely.

"You're my daddy's long lost friend?" She asked, not knowing what to say, I simply nodded.

"Sarah, Why don't you go into the playroom for a few minutes, I'd like to speak with Mr. Tucker alone." he said, she obediently wandered down the hallway, to the playroom. The Bearded man led me into the room. A curtain surrounded the bed, eliminating any outside view. I could here heavy breathing coming from the other side. The patient was probably sleeping. I glanced around the room, a bass case was lying, open, on the floor. A few clothes were slung out of it; Women's clothes. A couple wine bottles, that were broken, littered the floor around it. It looked as if someone had swept it up. Signs of a struggle were evident. Finally, that Forensic investigation class I took in Seventh grade finally paid off. Speaking if middle school, a small tag stuck out the side,

SOUTH PARK JR. HIGH

This was Tweek's bass case from middle school! He must've had it with him when he disappeared. What had he been doing all these years? Why were there wine bottles and women's clothes littering the room? How did Tweek have a kid? Hundreds of questions fluttered around my head.

And I was about to get the answers.

"Come, sit down." Said the man. I sat down in a plastic chair next to the bed, the breathing continued. The man sat down across from me.

"As you may have guessed, I'm Doctor Steve Griffith." He said, I nodded.

"My name is Craig Tucker," I said, he also nodded.

"Your friend Tweek is recovering from a very serious state." He said, I glanced at the bed, still covered.

"He came in about three months ago, a woman discovered his body in a dumpster actually, he was barely alive, beaten down. He had two broken ribs, many cuts and bruises, his arms were both fractured, his left leg broken. He had lost a pint of blood." He said. I took it all in; It was shocking. "You were the only one in his contacts on his cell phone," he said, while gesturing to the old cell phone lying on the table. The 'Brand New' one Tweek's parents had gotten him weeks before he disappeared. "We want to find out who did this to him, but nobody is sure. Sadly, Mr. Tucker, we can't zero out anyone as a suspect yet. I am afraid I have to inform you that you are our leading suspect for this case of domestic violence." He said calmly.

"WHAT!" I screamed, I heard a loud gasp from inside the curtain.

"Hush, look, Tweek hasn't told us anything yet, we thought he might open up to you. I don't think you did this Mr. Tucker, but I think you can find out who did."

Dr. Griffith stood up, and opened the curtain. I was greeted by a short, frail figure. Tweek. His blonde hair was messy and snarled, he looked as if he hadn't been outside in months. His eyes were lifeless, but they lit up when they saw me. He looked so different, he was so slender, and delicate. Almost…Feminine.

"I think you two ought to get acquainted. I'm going to go check on Sarah." He said, and with that, he was gone. I looked at Tweek, he smiled.

"Hi Craig." He said, in a soft voice.

"Tweek, Where have you been?" I asked, almost in a whisper. "We've missed you."

He looked at me, with forlorn eyes. He scooted to the far side of the bed, and gently patted the foot of the bed.

"Please sit, and let me tell my story."

"I was depressed. I felt like nobody loved me. As you know, both my parents spent all their time working, never to spend any time with their only son. I felt rejected, I wasn't the most popular guy at school, I was teased and taunted; but I always had you. Then, that fateful week in seventh grade; I didn't do my half of our summative science project. You wouldn't listen to me; You screamed at me, hollered, told me you hated me. I never got to tell you why I didn't do the project. My parents absolutely refused to let me use their work computer. They said children shouldn't have access to that kind of advanced technology. Even though I insisted it was for school, all week I did, they said no. They wouldn't believe me. My dad said he didn't trust me, and he'd probably walk in on me playing farmworld on FaceSpace or something. Craig, I had no choice; but you wouldn't listen, I'd hit rock bottom. I packed my stuff in my orchestra bag, and ran away. I know it was dumb, and I could've died, but I was only twelve! I wasn't thinking straight! I walked and walked, I took a cab, a bus, but, by the end of the night, I was lost in the city, out of money. I couldn't go home, my parents would murder me. I tried to call you, but my phone died. I was alone. I spent that night at a local homeless shelter. Then, I was on my own. I was walking the next night, trying to find a way home, going to say I was abducted, or something. Yet, I couldn't manage to get out of the city. I always just managed to get deeper and deeper into trouble, finally, I couldn't walk anymore. I sat down on a curb and cried. What else was I to do? After a few minutes, a black corvette pulled up. A guy, about 17 or 18, stepped out of the car.

'Need help?' I looked up; A nice looking guy was calmly staring down at me.

'I'll take you home.'

I got into the car, and we started to drive out of the area.

'Where are you from? What is your name?" he asked;

I told the guy my story, all of it. He told me his full name, Marin Jay Brown. He slowed down at an apartment building, and pulled into the parking lot. He looked over at me.

'It sounds as if those people didn't love you.' He said.

I nodded.

'Feels that way.' I said, he nodded, and brushed my hair away from my face.

'I think I'd better take care of you from now on.'

He stepped out of the car, and led me up to his apartment. He explained to me, what I'd be doing for him, in exchange for staying with him." Tweek explained.

"What was that?" I asked, curious as ever.

"Prostitution." He said, "He took me into his apartment, and there were three girls there, dressed in skimpy, revealing clothes. I averted my eyes, I was too young to be seeing things like that, and besides, I wasn't positive as to what team I was playing for yet…." He said. I was stunned.

"You're gay?" I asked, louder than I meant to. He shook his head.

"Bi. Anyway, that doesn't matter, I didn't need to see it anyway. He told me I'd have to dress like a girl, since I looked like one. That started my downfall. I befriended the youngest of the girls, Theresa, she was fourteen. She leant me some of her clothes, then, I started my work. I'm lucky to not have any STD's. The doctors checked me for all kinds of things like that, I'm fine. I have nothing. I was shocked too." He said, looking at my, apparently, shocked expression. "I worked for him for a year, 13 months to be exact, until, one night. I was working, and suddenly, a woman pulled up. She looked me in the eye, and handed me twenty bucks. She explained that she could tell I wasn't a girl, somehow. So, we went back to her place. It's obvious what happened next, she said she might want to do it again sometime. So, I gave her my number. She never called, well, that's not true. She did call, 10 months later. I remember that phone call like it was yesterday. I picked up, and she was screaming at me.

'I'm coming to where you live right now! I AM NOT TAKING CARE OF THIS MONSTER.' She screamed, and hung up. I don't know how, or where, but she got my address, and a few days later, I opened the door, and there she was. She threw a toweled bundle at me.

'TAKE IT! YOU CREEP!' She screamed, and ran off. Never to be heard of again. It was shocking, especially when I opened the towel to discover an adorable baby girl. The girls who lived with me were very helpful, they named her, Sarah, and helped me with necessities, feeding, diapers, they helped me until she turned six years old. When I wanted to enroll her in school. Martin told me no, but when I did it anyway, I got what I deserved for disobeying. They needed an address, so they could check me out, because apparently it was rules for new students, but I think they just didn't trust me. I wrote down the apartment address, and when a social worker showed up a few days later, she was shocked. She explained to me that I was an unfit, unjust parent who didn't know how to keep a clean house, and that transsexuals and homosexuals should not be allowed to be parents. She took Sarah away from me. The court was immediately on her side, and now, she lives with a foster family on the other side of town. She still visits me in the hospital everyday, but when I'm out, I'm not allowed to see her anymore unless I can prove I am fit to be a parent, and I can afford my own house. After the incident with the court, Martin became angered. Okay, he was pissed. He then- Well, put me in the state I was in, when that chick found me in that dumpster a few months back. I don't know what really happened, I blacked out basically. So, the doctor called you. You were the only person in my contacts, besides Martin, who never answered. So, really, then I ended up here. There really isn't much else." He said, and looked down, in shame, I guess. I scooted closer to him, and put my arms around him. I looked up at him, he started to cry.

"I'm getting out in a couple days, then, Sarah won't be mine anymore." He said, tears streamed down his cheeks. "My first born, taken away from me by rotten people, who don't know what I've been through. How can they do that? She was eating, she was happy, she was NOT getting into the business, what was wrong?" He asked. Of course, a rhetorical question.

"I know it might seem frightening, to have the world fall apart right underneath you, but trust me, we'll make it through." I said. He hugged me, and we sat there, for god knows how long, crying, and waiting. After a few minutes had past, Dr. Griffith knocked on the door.

"Tweek, are you ready to talk?"

Tweek spilled his story to Dr. Griffith, and a young police officer that introduced himself as Tony Ramirez. He took notes, and left after he was done. Tweek got out of the hospital a few days later. He came and stayed at my house. He pressed charges against Martin Brown, and he was arrested. He also went to court with the case about Sarah; I was one of his witnesses. I remember going to Sarah's foster home, and talking to her.

I approached the door, rather, apprehensively. I clanked the large knocker against the wooden frame of the door. A tall man answered the door.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"Is Sarah home?" I asked, he looked at me strangely, but let me in. Sarah ran up to me and hugged me.

"Hai Craig!" She exclaimed, and giggled, when I picked her up.

"I need to talk to you about something serious Sarah." I said, and set her down. I sat down beside her, and explained to her that during the case, she had to tell the judge that She wanted to live with Tweek, and that he was a good dad. I explained it simply enough that someone of her age could understand. She nodded, and I said goodbye to her and her family. She testified in the trial, and after months of trials, It was late August, when Tweek finally won. He could have his daughter. I moved out of my house and into an apartment near my college, and Tweek and his daughter moved in. Tweek admitted to me feelings that he had for me, as I did the same for him. We started a relationship, and we raised Sarah as OUR daughter.

Now, We're 21. Both out of college, and Sarah is nine. We plan on adopting another kid after we get our careers started. Sarah treats Tweek and me as equals, and loves us both as normal parents. Tweek promised that when Gay marriage is legalized, we'd get married.

I can't wait for that day. Because I love him, and he loves me, and even though this entire journey has left permanent scars on us both, I can safely say that good things came out of it.

And that, I'll never regret.


End file.
